It is now insent to Anne and sj. Erika, I'll get you a copy as well.

Thanks so much!

No sweat.(Man, I really need to start writing characters my age...I sound like a time capsule.)

Final story, posted.. It is called "Some Girls."

there, the last scene of the first section of the new series.

The look she gave the Magus suggested that new and more capable assassins might be making their way to him in the near future, but Fleur de Mal's voice was calm. "Does the manner of my Sire's service reflect on the quality of the blood he received and passed down to me? I know there are vampires here who are older than I or who have a closer relation to our Master." She bowed to one corner of the chamber, where sat several vampires who were no longer able to differentiate between their human and demonic faces. "I would, of course, step aside for any of those who wished to claim the leadership."

No one in the room believed her, but it was a politic remark to make. The Magus could only smile and accept it. None of the older vampires had shown any urge towards leadership. They were content to live their lives in isolation, occasionally going out and wreaking localized havoc. The swiftly changing world baffled them, and they muttered frequently about how things were done in their day. The Master had been exceptional in his ability to adapt and accept the changes.

"You spoke of deeds," the Magus said. "Would you mind speaking of them? I sometimes lose track of what others get up to, and I do enjoy hearing tales of mayhem and adventure."

Fleur shook her head. "My deeds are known. I would hate to waste the assembly's time."

"I ask only to make sure that Aurelius as the best qualified leadership." The Magus sighed sorrowfully. "The Master's chosen, Luke, was killed by the Slayer, and none of his descendant survive. The others who served the Master during his confinement, those closest in his counsels, are also lost."

"Not lost, not all." In a far corner, one of the elders rose to his feet slowly, supported by one of his minions. He seemed swamped by his Cardinal's robes, and the scarlet biretta was perched awkwardly on a head beginning to shift permanently into demonic angles. His minion wore the robe of a Benedictine monk.

The Magus and Fleur glanced at each other suspiciously, then frowned at seeing they were both equally surprised. Fleur recovered first. "What do you mean, Your Eminence? Not all lost?"

Cardinal Fortezzi had been corrupt and venal in life. His smile still held much of its old lasciviousness. "The exquisite Darla survives.

The Magus managed not to sigh audibly. "Your Eminence, Darla was killed by Angel before we lost the Master."

Fortezzi chuckled nastily. "I'm not that old yet, Magus. I know what goes on in the world." He laughed again as the Magus shifted uneasily and Fleur smirked. "If I say Darla survives, then Darla survives. He Who Keeps knows this as well."

Everyone turned to the guardian. "Is this true?" Fleur asked. The guardian nodded. "And you never said?"

He smiled very faintly. "No one ever asked."

The Magus muffled his impatience with difficulty. "One does tend to assume that if someone is dust then they are not coming back. How, then? And where is she?"

"Where?" Fortezzi said. "I do not know. How? I do not know that either, but I know Who. Those meddlers currently calling themselves Wolfram & Hart."

A knowing whisper went round the chamber. "But why?" the Magus asked.

"Why? Why is the easiest of questions, child. To torment her lover and killer, Angelus, of course."

Fleur de Mal shook her head. "As interesting as this is, why is it relevant? Darla was a faithful servant of our Master, but she is not here to claim any rights or to present her opinions."

"True, true," Fortezzi nodded. "Still, her line is one with much potential, and she was one of the Master's favorites. He was most intrigued with Angelus, as well."

"Angelus is gone," Fleur said firmly. "Darla's line contains no one we need concern ourselves with. Darla shows no interest, Angelus is gone, Drusilla is mad, and William the Bloody is reduced to begging for his meals."

"Don't be so quick to judge, child," Fortezzi said, grinning maliciously. "That line has a remarkable ability to bounce back from their misfortunes. Darla has returned, Angelus is retrievable, Drusilla has sufficient moments of clarity to make her very dangers, and . . ."

Fleur sighed impatiently. "Yes, and? What of William the Bloody, who managed to fall foul of humans and was made helpless for his pains?"

For all the frailty of his body, Fortezzi's malice was as lively as ever. "He's not."

"Not what?"

"Helpless. He hunts again. The humans' chip is gone."

The whisper was louder this time. The human's Initiative against the demons had caused much talk and concern. A demonic jihad had been contemplated to stop them. One of the other vampires leaned forward.

"How was the chip removed?" she asked. "Most of the victims destroyed themselves, but there are still several about. Such knowledge would be very valuable."

Fortezzi shrugged. "That I do not know. My information extends only to the fact that William the Bloody is himself again."

Fleur remained unmoved. "While I rejoice that there is a way to undo the humans' atrocity, I still do not know the relevance to the current discussion, which is the leadership of Aurelius."

The Cardinal's look of unassuming concern was nearly perfect. "Aurelius is not only those of us who tend our machinations. Aurelius is also the wild ones in the night, the ones who think of us as calcified fossils who have forgotten what our fangs are for." He considered his own hands for a moment, studying the claws he could no long will away. "They may be right. William the Bloody has a reputation that appeals to the wilder vampires, the ones who dismiss us if they think of us at all."

"He is foul, unprincipled, and uncouth," Fleur snapped. "He cares nothing for the traditions of our order. His grand-sire rejected the Master and took Darla away, and he himself--" She had to steady herself. "He destroyed the Anointed One."

"Yes," Fortezzi said, all mocking gone. "The Anointed One. Who sat at the left hand of the Master, who provided the key to his release, who would have guided Aurelius in the ancient ways. But who was not strong enough to resist destruction at the hands of--" He nodded at Fleur "--an uncouth, unprincipled rogue with no appreciation for the way things have always been done." The Cardinal looked around at his fellows. "So perhaps it is time to reconsider the ways things have always been done."

Fleur de Mal could only gape for several seconds as talk broke out around her. "Your Eminence, are you suggesting--what are you suggesting? That we consider that--that barbarian for--for anything?" No one was paying attention any longer, so she strode to the Cardinal's side. Her slave scurried after. "Fortezzi, you said you were on my side," she said quietly. "What are you doing? How do you even know these things?"

"It has never been my habit to ignore those who might be rivals, even if their only seat of power is a garbage heap. Fortuna turns, and her favor falls where it was refused before. The wheel has turned for our unmannered friend. Fleur, he holds the Hellmouth, he helped bring down the Hellgod Glory, and he destroyed the Anointed One. He cannot be dismissed."

She shook her head in distaste. "But he's--have you ever met him?"

Fortezzi grinned. "Yes, I have. He and his lady, Drusilla, in Rome about ten years ago. Such an interesting pair. Yes, Spike is everything you said, uncouth, unpleasant, uncivilized--though if you get him drunk enough, he can speak quite knowledgeably about grand opera, and in the proper languages. I must admit, however, that he threatened to pin me to St. Peter's Dome with several railroad spikes if I ever mentioned Rossini or Mozart again."

"And you wants us to court him."

"He is unique, Fleur. For millennia we have followed the prophecies, the ancient courses. Our Master believed in the old ways, but he was never afraid of change. Spike is chaos personified. I believe we need a touch of chaos. We are as much a part of this world as the humans, and the world does not turn on her way immutable and unchanging. Too many of us think if we cling to the traditions that we will triumph. The humans adapt. So must we."

Fleur de Mal reserved her opinion. Enthusiasm was disconcerting, especially in such a one as Cardinal Fortezzi. She paid attention to the conversations around her. The disgusted mutters of "no dignity" and "so horribly human" and "all Angelus' spawn are mad" were met with "holds the Hellmouth" and "quite surprisingly clever" and "I don't know how well I would have survived being starved for so long."

It was breaking down along age lines. Perhaps, just perhaps, she had spent too much effort shaping her campaign to suit the oldest and most influential. The younger ones had voices, too, and there were more of them.

"He could never lead the order," she stated.

Fortezzi shrugged. "I doubt he'd want to. But I would be careful of touting your deeds and lineage just yet, with everyone thinking of Spike."

"I am only one generation removed from the Master! This--Spike has three between himself and the Master."

"But everyone knows the names of the vampires in those three generations. You're probably the only one, dear Fleur, who even remembers the name of your Sire. The one with the dogs, is how we remember him. One only has to say the word Angelus, and everyone begins telling the tales. And many of those tales include the name William the Bloody. The Master's blood is powerful, but it improve with reinforcement."

Fleur studied the old vampire, thinking of all the centuries of plots he'd concocted, living and dead. "You want him for leader. Instead of me."

Fortezzi shook his head. "The true elders would never accept him. They will accept you. But such a one as William the Bloody would be a very useful ally--if not something closer."

As she considered and watched the crowd, Fleur spotted the Magus deep in conversation with two of his own supporters. He glanced up and caught her watching, and his automatic smile and bow were a few seconds behind the thoughtful look he sent her way.

She disliked having new playing pieces appear on her gaming board, no matter how potentially useful this new piece might be. Still, even pawns were useful for getting in the way of more powerful pieces.

"It sounds worth investigating, at the very least," she said cautiously to Fortezzi. "The entire line sounds like it needs to be re-evaluated. As you said, there is potential there. Perhaps it is time for the Order of Aurelius to see to its neglected children."

Especially if it turned out that the best way Darla's line could be greatest help was to stop clouding the issues of Fleur's ascension by being dead.

I suck at endings. It always feel like I just chop it off in mid-thought.

Because the worst thing somebody can do is tell me "don't".

MUNCH

I followed them...I don’t know why, but I did. I smelled Kay’s shampoo for miles and I followed them. I just needed to confirm for Kay that she was on the right track or something...I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking with my brain. When I got there, I hid in a hibiscus bush and waited for her to retrieve something from the car. She heard me rustling around and turned her beautiful head my way.

“Boo,” I said, after checking to see I was in human face.

“Son of a...Munchkin, my God. You’re the one with the letters, huh? Are you trying to kill me here?” For just one minute, I see the fear, the pain and strain. Detective Howard hides so much. I wished we were both different people so I could tell her it was going to be all right without feeling like I was blowing smoke up her gun belt.

“Only with kindness, babe,” I don’t know why I do that...I can see she’s really freaked, but still, alone with a beautiful woman, out comes this hipster bullshit.

“What are you trying to do here, huh?” Kay said. “I’ll tell you, Munchkin, I meant it when I said I wouldn’t stake you, given my druthers. But you make one move on that girl in there, and you are sediment, bunky. It would break my heart...I might even wanna eat my gun after, but swear to God, I’ll do it.
” “Who are you trying to convince? Me or you? I could have a hundred Cordelias, babe. Although that is an entertaining thought...do you mind if I pursue it for a minute?”

She nodded curtly at me, gesturing toward her purse, which I assumed contained a Giant Stake of Doom of some kind.”As long as we understand one another."

Oh, man, erika, do I love the way she treats the inside of his head.

I have a Faith fic percolating. It's being really insistent. And I really, really, really do not have time to give in to ficcing right now.

That's how it is, I think, with people who've known each other close to forever, like they have.(In cumulative years, maybe nsm, but they've spent a fair amount of time shut up in a small squad...and he likes to tease her and symbolically pull her pigtails. And there is next to no privacy in that environment.) And I think Munchkin's not all that acquainted with the unexpressed thought. Read about them in books, but...